


Flight and Love are Fleeting

by incenseandteacups



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Wingfic, Wings!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:43:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4309185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incenseandteacups/pseuds/incenseandteacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those that are born with wings qualify to become soldiers; Jean is one of these, as is his best friend Marco - however, when Marco's life as a soldier ends, Jean doesn't know where to turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight and Love are Fleeting

**Author's Note:**

> Possible series? Not sure. Part of my 500+ word requests. ->
> 
> http://writingincense.tumblr.com/post/123678527472/500-character-fic-requests

Jean was unusually skilled at flying, but even he was having trouble at this point, wings screaming in agony as he spread them wide to brake again. His feet touched onto a rooftop, and he looked around, trying to clear the ringing in his head and calm down.

**

The day of their initiation, each trainee had a feather plucked from their recently down-free wings. These would be used not to determine their ranks - any species could become successful - but their skills, because those indeed vary by wing and species type.  
Shadis was…rather terrifying, eyes of steel as he walked by each trainee and coldly pulled a feather. His own wings, easily identified as those from a harpy eagle, draped over his uniform menacingly.

The results were back within a day.

Ackerman, Mikasa. Peregrine Falcon.  
Arlert, Armin. African Gray Parrot.

Blouse, Sasha. Red-tailed Hawk.

Bodt, Marco. Turtle Dove.

Braun, Reiner. California Condor.

Hoover, Bertholdt. Martial Eagle.

Jaeger, Eren. Magpie.

Kirschtein, Jean. Merlin Falcon.

Lenz, Krista. White Dove.

Leonhardt, Annie. Kestrel.

Springer, Connie. Rock Pigeon.

Ymir. Bearded Vulture.

They were separated into classes based on their wingspans, on the flight patterns that would fit each best, so that each would learn how to get every bit of use they could out of their wings. Jean was (not so) secretly pleased to be in the same class as Mikasa; hunters. His own species could catch birds out of the sky, and he found - after his first terrifying experience of being pushed off the wall by Shadis - that he loved the skies.

Being in the same class as Mikasa didn’t make up for being separate from Marco, though. He was with Armin and Krista, learning how to glide from rooftops and building up power in his wings - speed wasn’t their strong suit, so they had to build up stamina to compensate. Jean would occasionally rub a sore Marco’s shoulders and fight the flaming heat on his face.

Overall, training was good. Thick muscles built in the base of Marco’s dappled brown wings, and Jean learned how to swerve on currents of wind and turn on a dime, rocket at hurtling speeds through the air and kill a practice titan in the space of a second. Marco was still rather clumsy in flight, but he was strong, and so Jean didn’t allow himself to worry.

He’d regret that.

**

Jean couldn’t find anyone from his squad. He glided from rooftop to rooftop, looking for tan jackets and the shine of feathers in the cloudy light, but there was nothing. And then a piercing scream met keen ears. Heart thudding, he took off, wings straining as he tried to gain air. He didn’t have the strength to take off from straight land, dipping a few times to build speed and carry him higher. There were no thermals down here, no warm currents of air to lift him, and he wasn’t used to building like this.

When he finally got high enough, a last scream echoed through the stone, before stopping entirely. He made his way for it, feet desperately kicking off from the tops of buildings to try and pick up his slow pace. When he reached it, his blood froze still in his veins.

There was no titan to be found, but something far more frightening waited for him. A trainee laid face-down on the pavement, blood splattered around him. One wing was ripped off entirely, a few feet away from him, and the other was horribly crumpled and broken, sickeningly, as though it had been grabbed in a titan’s fist.  
Jean recognized those strong wings.

**

“Jean?” A soft hand rested on top of his hair, and Jean’s head jerked up, tired eyes widening. Marco had a bandage over one side of his head, where he’d hit the pavement - they said that eye was no good anymore. He looked a bit pained, but mostly confused. “Where…what…what happened…?”  
Jean tried to fight past the lump in his throat. “Marco…”

His expression became warm and soothing, and the idea that Marco was trying to comfort him made a sob erupt in Jean’s throat. “Shh, shh, it’s okay…” Marco hummed, even though his voice was hoarse from screams. His hand, rubbing Jean’s arm, paused, tensed, before continuing to soothe. “It’s okay.” He repeated, and when Jean looked up he saw the knowledge in Marco’s eyes, saw tears streaming silently down his face.

“It’s okay.”


End file.
